Home Sweet Home
by Crimson Moonbeam
Summary: Mary and John didn't die when they were young, rather when they were living a comfortable life with three children - Dean, Sam and Danny. In a tragic event, the Winchester siblings are left parentless and homeless. The brothers decide to take off and continue the 'family business', but what do to with Danny? They leave her at a Home and years later, run into her. What will happen?
1. Chapter 1

The car ride was a tedious and long journey. It was also a tense and silent one. No matter how many times I had struggled to retrieve an answer of our destination, my two brother's kept up their charade and awkwardly shrugged off the question. Looking back, I should have realised something was up, but how does a four-year-old mind comprehend the matters of complex adults? The hesitant walk up the untidy garden path was no better. Trikes, toy blocks and odd bits and pieces littered the clean-cut lawn: a tell-tale sign children inhabited the rickety house. I still remember that day so clearly. I can't forget, but for years I have been pushing it to the back of my mind, forcing it to stay trapped in a facade of blurry memories. Sam's grip on me had been tight.

The elderly woman who greeted us donned an apron covered in unknown muck and food. Grey hair clasped in a bun and soft wrinkles lined her pudgy face. Reminiscing, nothing about Matron had changed. During the encounter and the exchange of hushed words between Sam and her, I was more focused on the dozens of children I could see racing past in diapers, squealing and clinging onto pacifiers, and bottles. Such an exotic and strangely homely environment compared to my relatively unusual lifestyle. "Danny?" Sam's gentle voice dragged me out of my reverie. He kneeled down and gripped my hands in one of his. "Dean and I, we're going to leave you here for tonight."

Upon the distress suddenly marring my face, Sam quickly continued. "It's just for one night. We have some business we need to take care of. Can you do this?" I still recall his soft voice, wavering with each sentence. Sam's usually bright hazel eyes were dull and welling with unshed tears. It had struck me as bizarre. "No!" I'd clung to Sam as though he were a life ring - my only device to stop me from drowning in an array of uncontrollable emotions and harsh memories."It's just one night. I'll collect you tomorrow. While you're here, you can play games, paint, and do jigsaws with kids your own age." he reassured. Sam squeezed my hand and brushed away the stray hairs floating in front of my eyes. I didn't want them to leave. Not like Mommy and Daddy left me. "No! Stay!" I cried and butted my head on his shoulder.

Matron had stood quietly nearby, patiently waiting out the last time I'd see my brother - unbeknownst to me at the time. "Don't cry. Look. I got you something." Sam pried himself away from me and from his shirt pocket, withdrew a fine silver chain with a little locket hanging on the end. I stared in awe, my grief and worry temporarily forgotten. "There's a picture of us inside. You can wear it and you won't be sad anymore." Sam explained and reached around to fix it on my neck. I plucked at it and fiddled with the locket until it sprung open. Inside, a minute photo of me in Dean's arms and Sam on my side was revealed. Dean's 'baby' was our seat and despite all the torment we had endured, smiles were plastered on our faces. "I'll see you tomorrow. You be good, Danny." I found my face assaulted with Sam's kisses. "Love you." he whispered and rose back to his full height.

Before the true realisation that I was to be left with this large woman in a house filled with rowdy kids hit me, Matron had taken my hand and was encouraging me to wave "bye-bye". With a last watery glance, Sam took shotgun in Dean's car. Not a minute was wasted before the engine revved and they tore off out of the driveway and down the street. The smell of fumes and the feeling of helplessness was all that filled me. I hadn't finished waving before Matron lead me inside. Our car had already disappeared into the distance by then. That was the last time I saw my brothers. It's surprising what you remember when you're young. I guess bad memories have a way of lingering with you.

* * *

When the anticipated time of my brother's arrival came, I was so excited, I kept needing to go to the toilet. Matron was always there, trying to pull me way from the front window to 'help' her make dinner, or play with the other children. Now at my age, I realise her sole and good-intentioned purpose for doing so. I reluctantly left the window at six to half-heartedly eat dinner, always straining an ear to hear the deep rumble of the Impala. Bedtime soon came and while the others were jumping on beds upstairs so the floorboards creaked, I was slumped by the window, near exhaustion, but still waiting. That night was the worst.

Worse then the disappearance of my parents. Worse, because I knew my brothers had abandoned me. I just didn't want to believe it. I went to sleep with a heavy heart. For the next week, I sat hopefully at the window. It soon became a place everyone knew where to find me. Not even the introduction to a new child could distract me. Then, nearing the tenth day of being brother-less, I stopped. I simply stopped caring, waiting, hoping. It had all been in vain. They were finally free from the burden I was.

Matron all the while was still there an using a firm and kind strictness, persuading me to eat when I was too upset to try. She forced me to mingle with the girls and play dollies like a 'good little girl'. She even went as far as giving me an extra scoop of ice-cream during meal time to cheer me up. A loving soul, Matron is, but still all her efforts failed to distract me. At the age of nine, the period I became rather rebellious and difficult, I managed to sneak into Matron's office and catch a glimpse at my file. Labelled clearly on a thumbed piece of paper was written: "Dannielle Winchester has seemingly erased memories of her family from her mind…she no longer waits by the window…"

That's exactly what I did. A sponge wiped a clean slate of my brain and became anew. I no longer had any family. As far as I'm concerned, I was given up to Matron at birth and have no family. So, here I am. Eleven years later, fifteen years old and meandering through my uneventful, pitiful life. Despite it all, the locket still hangs from my neck.


	2. Chapter 2

Today is Audrey's eighteenth birthday. At the Home, turning eighteen isn't just a day you become a year older or a day you're finally classified as an adult, it's a day where you're free from the legal system and are able to start your own journey out into the wide world. Though I knew of Audrey, we weren't best buddies or anything. In fact, I found her personally annoying. Well, it's not really personal because I know most of the other teenagers find her a bit annoying. She's not a bad old stick but she does have her moments. For example, today she was loudly bragging to every person in a two foot radius that her rich boyfriend in Ohio was planning to marry her when she was out and together, they'd live in a mansion, own a fancy car and have six children.

I felt sorry for the poor girl. We didn't believe her story but for her sake, we went along with it. The littler kids were too either too young to care or too naive and gullible to call out her bluff. In my honest opinion, I don't think Audrey herself even believes her ramblings but she seems so desperate to believe there is something good in the world waiting for her, she's willing to spurt anybody any tale just to keep her mind at ease. Nonetheless, Matron is shouting all fourteen children an hour or two at Denny's. I'd rather curl up in bed and read.

* * *

The long and cramped bus ride to Denny's was going on the verge of being agonising. It was far too hot inside the tin, banged up bus. Some kid had smashed in the air conditioning vent long ago and Matron never bothered to get anyone around to fix it. Jackson, a boy of twelve, was spending his time pinching my elbow in an irritating manner. Though they tickled more than actually stung, I pretended not to notice. If it brings some crazy joy to him than so be it. The poor kid has autism and the sensation reminds me that I'm still alive, still present. Down the highway our banged-up bus chugged, jerking us up and down in our seats. The way Matron's driving, I wouldn't be surprised if she got us all killed.

I tend to trust her more when she's not behind the wheel of a lethal vehicle. When we finally pulled up in the dusty carpark of Denny's, I was feeling nauseous and ready to call it a day. Even with the engine killed, the raucous crowd of my 'brothers' and 'sisters' created more sound than a battle field. "Children! Settle down!" Matron yelled, flinging her hands about wildly in an effort to shut down the noise. She looked like she was conducting an orchestra and her double chin waggled about most unattractively.

"I want you all to line up in a neat single file and follow me. No lagging, please!" she instructed. her voice was beginning to croak and it wasn't even ten in the morning. I waited until I was last aboard. Apparently, I was the only one who felt gloomy. Everyone was chattering to each other in an excited manner, Audrey even more so. Trailing behind, I mooched into the stuffy restaurant. An array of enticing smells wafted into my nose. It only stirred up my restless stomach. While Matron arranged for our table at the front desk, eyes from other families enjoying a meal out bounced off us. They were cautious to not catch out eyes but too curious to not glance at the group emitting such a loud racket.

I kept my head low and followed like a sheep does to the table Matron was wildly gesturing us to. As usual, I was last and had to squeeze onto the end of a bench, nervously fingering my locket. Even with four benches situated around the table, there still isn't enough room. Oooh, I really hate packed places! Mason, the toddler next to me, sneezed abruptly and showered a splatter of saliva onto my forearm. A chorus of disgruntled cries rose up. I grimaced and sought Matron's line of eyesight. "I need the bathroom." I excused.

Matron waved me off. She was having a difficult time controlling the teens. They seemed more interested in flinging packets of pepper at the customers across from us. Good, I hope Matron learns from this. I hate outings. Still twiddling with my locket, I lurched up and wandered around the busy restaurant in search of a bathroom. God, I think I'm gonna hurl! I could feel the hysteria rising in me like magma does in a volcano. I turned around and much like I'd expect from someone with horrid clumsiness like me, I bumped into a waiter.

Pink juice went flying. "Sorry!" I squealed and rushed off. A sign displaying a ladies bathroom was up ahead and if I don't get there in less than thirty seconds, the drink the waiter - I mean I - spilled won't be the only mess he's cleaning up. The moment I stumbled in, I slammed a cubicle door shut and buried my head over the grimy toilet bowl. Now that I had the chance to retch my guts, I couldn't.

If anything, the sight of the mess someone hadn't flushed sitting below me only increased the swirling in my belly. When I couldn't bring any of my stomach contents up, I flushed away the vile mess and emerged. My image in the mirror wasn't at all flattering; I hadn't brushed my hair and it hung in tufts, my face was sweaty and greasy, and I felt as hot and clammy as I appeared. I sighed and splashed refreshing cold water on my face before attempting to make myself look somewhat decent. Reluctant to touch the dirty door handle, I waited until it swung open from the entering woman before slipping out to join my surrogate family. It wouldn't take a fool to see where they were.

The toddlers were beginning to get fussy and the children were too loud. Poor Matron. I hung my head low and allowed my thoughts to emerge into more depressing ones. Like what it would be like to join the picture-perfect family sitting across from us? The set of four look ready to leave, judging by their constant jerky movements and hushed whispers to one another. Not that I blame them. How nice would it be to not have to worry about leaving your toothbrush out where pranksters can dip it in the toilet? How nice would it be to have a beautiful, rosy-sweet mother and a strong, handsome father come in each night to kiss you on the forehead? How nice would it be to have a cute and well-behaved brother and sister who don't pester - my foot collided with something stiff and in an instant, my arms hit the wooden floor.

"Shit! You okay, kid?" I groaned and in unison, my cheeks lit up like fireworks. My eyes felt as though they were ready to melt off. A calloused, male hand intruded my vision as a sign of offering. I declined and in an effort to retain some of my dignity, got up on my own accord. Meeting my gaze was a well-built man with young green eyes and tousled blonde hair. "Yeah, no I'm good." I confirmed, keeping my eyes downcast. I hurriedly slunk off to my table, all the while fingering my locket, and careful to avoid any more outstretched legs.

* * *

The following hour sluggishly ambled by. I could constantly feel the emerald-eyed man and his partner sitting opposite him, staring at me. They were careful to avoid my eyes however when I dared peeked over. Maybe he's angry I didn't apologise. What if he tries something? Crap! Now I have something else to be paranoid about. The distraction of a pretty cake and the cliche 'Happy Birthday' song was enough to put my racing mind at rest - for a while at least. Cake was passed out in a frenzy. Everyone wanted a slice right there and then, I mean how often do we get cake? I picked pathetically at mine and when my 'sister Jennie asked for my remaining cake, I gladly handed it over.

I stared ahead and as discreetly as possible, concentrated on the two men at the booth on the opposite side of the room using my peripheral vision. I could just make out their shapes. Are they discussing me? Is he really that angry that I didn't apologise? My fingers twisted furiously in my necklace and fear bubbled inside my gut. "Danny? Are you alright, dear?" Matron questioned, half-focused on wiping down the sticky face of Mason. I bit my lip. "'M feeling queasy. Mind if I get some air?" I stood up anyway. "Yes, yes. Go on." she answered before moving onto the next messy toddler. I scurried through the throng of roaming people as fast as possible without looking conspicuous.

When the hot midday sun hit my skin, I breathed with relief and gulped in the air. Across the lot, I spied a lone bench under a small willow tree near the highway. I sauntered over and plonked myself down. It was almost noiseless outside, except for the odd car racing past and the twitter of birds. As usual, some alone time resulted in various thoughts to soak into my brain. What's in the future for me? What really happened to my parents? What will I do when I get out of the Home? Should I run away? Does anyone really love me? What is the point of me even living? And as usual, these painful questions went unanswered. I kicked my feet weakly at the gravelly dirt. Dusts of clouds rose up and settled on my jeans.

I lightly closed my eyes and allowed myself to direct my focus on the grainy light behind my eyelids. If there is a God, why was I abandoned? Heck, why were any of my 'siblings' left behind!? I snapped open my eyes when I heard the car park's gravel crunching beneath heavy feet. Strolling in my direction were the two men. Oh fuck! Have they really come to beat me!? I tensed up and looked down. I plucked at a loose strand of thread on my shirt and acted as though I hadn't noticed them yet.

"Hey, little girl?" I raised my head an inch and instinctively, my hand flew up to toy with my locket. I peered around nervously. "Me?" I squeaked. They came to a stop a short distance before me. The one who had spoken towered above the other. Shaggy brown locks framed his face and a sharp nose proportioned his face nicely. "Yeah. What's your name?" he asked, shoving his hands in his jean pockets. Their eyes roamed up and down, silently scrutinising. Shaggy-haired man's eyes lingered on my neck and an odd expression coloured his face. "I'm…um, not supposed to talk to strangers." I accused. A harsh wind suddenly blew and I lost his next words to the wind. "Danny." he repeated louder. I blanched. "What?" I spat. "You're name's Danny." he disclosed. "How d-do you know?" I breathed, cautiously standing up. "Your locket. Do you remember? I gave it to you a long time ago." Emerald-eyes gazed on with his eyebrows furrowed, and an unreadable expression crossing his face. Breathing suddenly became harder. No, no, no. "Do you remember us?" emerald-eyes interjected. "I don't know what you're talking about." I choked, folding my arms across my chest

"Open your locket. It's all the proof you need." Shaggy-haired man suggested, pointing to my neck. I can't! I know what I'll find. Still, the way these men stared at me…it was as thought something inside me snapped and with trembling fingers, I pried open the locket. It had stuck fast after not being used in so many years. Skeptically, I squinted at the figures staring back at me. Bringing the photo closer, I found a startling resemblance between the guys in front of me and the boys in the photograph. Low and behold, in the arms of emerald-eyes was a little girl of around three or four: me. As much as I hate to admit it, the men matching the boys in the photo were Sam and Dean - if not remotely older. My long lost brothers.

My stomach plummeted and cold pricks shivered up my spine. I don't want to believe it! In a red fury, I ripped my necklace off and flung it to the ground. "No!" I bellowed. They dump me and don't make contact with me for eleven years and yet now they come into my life and decided to ultimately fuck it up!? "You recognise us." Dean accused in a gravelly whisper. "Were your brothers." Sam weakly laughed, obviously trying to ease the tension clouding the air. The events of this morning and now this coincidental meeting was too much. Had God finally decided to take me into his arms? My vision blurred and grey dots blinked in front of my eyes. Fuck.


End file.
